


hold the warmth close

by sharknana29



Category: Lockwood & Co. - Jonathan Stroud
Genre: Gen, hopefully some sexy parallels but who knows, lockwood server secret santa 2020, lucy carlyle/repressed yearning, that post-thb solo work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:28:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28299708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharknana29/pseuds/sharknana29
Summary: ...she flipped a switch, opening her inner Ear to the hellish sounds of one overly social bit of bone. “Seems you might survive the night after all, eh?”Lucy scoffed. “Let’s wait til nightfall to place our bets.”In which the Skull is an entirely useless prick, Lucy ignores some thoughts, and a group is found to be more competent than expected.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	hold the warmth close

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SkullInAJar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkullInAJar/gifts).



“Another prostitute?”

“It’s always prostitutes, Dani, what do you expect?”

Lucy watched as the pair bickered, feeling a twinge of- not irritation, not sadness. Something else. She shuffled the thought away for later, returning her focus to the case. 

They were in the lobby of a small hotel, evacuated for the time being, preparing to hunt down a particularly nasty Screaming Spirit. _Hunt… such a detached word for their work_ , Lucy thought. She and Danielle had just been assigned to take readings and monitor activity on the second floor, the other Seer, Lucas, would be a floater checking in periodically on both groups. 

According to him, the ghost was known to stir things up on the first floor before midnight, revealing itself in the breakfast room. “Chained up and bloody and everything,” he had told them, going further into detail about the client’s report, which involved a fair bit of concerned mothering and a good deal of questionable speculation on Lucas’ part. For the second half of the night, the prostitute would apparently roam the halls without any sort of pattern, shattering the eardrums of anyone unfortunate enough to have Hearing. 

Their case briefing over, Lucy shouldered her kit bag and moved towards the stairs to solidify her bearings. Never a good idea to go anywhere without an escape plan. Once out of sight of the Mellingcamp agents, she flipped a switch, opening her inner Ear to the hellish sounds of one overly social bit of bone. “ _Seems you might survive the night after all, eh?_ ” 

Lucy scoffed. “Let’s wait til nightfall to place our bets.” She had been with more than enough crews that looked like they were competent, only to find them overcautious and scared of their own shadows. Dani came up to her then, clearly anxious to get preliminary readings done and over with. The Seer gestured towards the stairs. “After you.”

It was with surprise that Lucy saw their quiet efficiency and years of training. The whole team spread out, calling out to each other every few minutes. Lucas even making sure to get a response from her when he was within earshot. In preparation for the night ahead of them, chain circles were laid at the ends of hallways, salt spread in doorways. Lucy took note of the latter, recalling several situations where even the slight obstacle would have come in handy. 

An hour later, they regrouped by the check-in counter. The Mellingcamp supervisor, a drab and overly forgettable man in his 30s, clutched at an unnaturally bright sports drink as Lucy and Danielle walked in. The others were already there, notepads in hand. 

“Things have been pretty quiet down here. “ A blonde girl, Sylvia, started the debriefing quickly. “And not just because the rest ‘a them are deaf.” 

Lucas feigned indignance before laughing. “Don’t get so cocky, you’re- er, both of you,” he gestured to Lucy, “are going to live in hell for the night. It’s not so bad being deaf.”

“Not so bad til a shrieker has its hands through your stomach,” Tilly shot back. 

Danielle continued on, either used to joking about brutal deaths or ignoring it. Lucy could never even _think_ of getting away with something like that in front of- No, she didn’t have to think about that now. “There’s a cold spot in room 204, might want to look around in there.”

“I might have heard a few whispers by the stairs.” She was already adjusting to the flow of this team. 

The Skull, on the other hand, was not.

He spoke over them all, critiquing everything from the fit of their purple uniform jackets to the flavor of drink the supervisor had- not that he had any idea what it tasted like. Lucy rolled her eyes, speaking under her breath to tell him to sod off. Sylvia gave her a look, but quickly turned back to the pad in her hand, dutifully reciting her readings to an antsy adult that was clearly holding them back. 

That was one thing she had to take time getting used to after going solo. Reporting to an adult for everything was much more cumbersome than she remembered from her days up north. Perhaps that was because her skills had surpassed anything they had ever had (though really that had been the case since she was 8 years old), or because their hovering made it even more difficult to speak with the Skull while on a case. The supervisor, whose name Lucy hadn’t bothered to learn, was satisfied with their findings and let them arrange themselves for the rest of the night. “Meet back here at midnight!” he called, his nasally voice barely reaching the team’s quickly retreating backs. He would stay by the exit with the mountain of extra supplies for protection all night, from what she had heard.

For the first half of the night, Lucy would stay on the main floor, keeping an extra careful eye on the breakfast room. After making rounds about the rest of the halls, she turned towards the manifestation point. She hadn’t even stepped into the room before the Skull had piped up. “ _I can feel ‘er_.” 

“ _Where_ ,” she hissed, lingering before the door. The worst mistake an agent could make. She could feel a tingle going up her spine each moment she spent waiting, knowing the ghost was near, knowing it could see her. There was a chill radiating from the arch that led into the dining room, one that wasn’t natural. Lucy took a tentative step forward, shattering the atmosphere that had been building. Before she saw the spirit, the shrieking began. 

As she ran, racing towards the chain circle in front of the landing, Lucy thanked every lucky star above that the others had laid that strip of iron and salt. Her hands were slammed up against her ears in a desperate attempt to shield them from the sound, no chance for her to reach for her belt. 

Crossing the protective iron barrier was instant relief. Lucy could still hear the ghost, of course, but the chains lessened the piercing sound enough to let her reach for her tools belt. “Lucas! We have a situation!” Her partner sped over, rapier slashing not-quite-wildly. His blade made contact, the ghost falling apart to the hiss of ectoplasm on silver. 

It reappeared 5 feet away, building up its form from the ghost fog that had snuck in. Lucy lobbed a salt-bomb at its still-forming silhouette, sighing with relief as drops of ectoplasm flew a burning green down the hall. 

The pair stayed there for a moment, Lucas stepping warily into the chain circle, waiting for the spirit’s bustled image to return. Once certain they wouldn’t be ambushed, they made their way to the dining room. The whole time, Lucy strained her inner Ear, hoping to notice any sort of cue that might save them all later that night. 

Once in the dining room, they realized how thick the ghost-fog had gotten in the halls. The room itself was pristine, not even a slight deviance from the temperature recorded earlier, but from where they stood in the hall, the fog pooled lazily at their knees. 

She moved to enter, only to be stopped again. This time, Lucas had put an arm out in front of her. “You’re the guest, I can’t let you die first.” He angled a grin her way, probably meant to encourage, but all it did was form a pit in Lucy’s stomach. 

The Skull must have picked up on her dread, because he finally piped up. “ _At least you’re not in love with this one_ ,” he said cheerfully. “ _He won’t drop everything to save you either. A win-win, I think_.” 

While Lucy debated how to best threaten the Skull, Lucas had made it to the center of the dining room. He approached the table there, drawn to the frost on the tabletops. That, Lucy remembered, was where the ghost had first appeared, though earlier it had taken a much less pacifist approach. The Seer would have no idea if the screaming started up again, and Lucy severely doubted that the dining room would be a good place to be if that happened. She started to say something, but the weight of the moment pressed down on her. The thoughts in her mind slowed, moving more sluggishly with each passing second. There was something she had to do, she knew. But what? Maybe if she sat down, it would come to her. Plenty of chairs in there for her to rest on. Plenty to- _Lucas_. 

The ghost was there, approaching from behind. It reached forward. There didn’t seem to be a replaying memory in play, only a rage rubbed raw by the passage of time. Lucy watched in horror as the spirit moved ever closer to Lucas. She managed to shake off the ghost-lock a second too late, knowing that if she were to move now, it would only result in a dead teammate and an angry ghost after her. All Lucy could do was watch it play out and blow the thing to kingdom come when it rounded on her. She prepared for its attack, only to see something that reminded her distinctly of- _No_.

Lucas had sliced cleanly through the ghost, not even looking at it. Things would be quiet, at least for the moment. He threw a look over his shoulder at Lucy, breathing heavily. “I don’t think she’s quite my type.”

Later, Lucy would deny having any sort of thought about that team. But deep in her mind, there was no hiding it. Perhaps it was the familiar dark hair (if a bit messier) or the almost competent supervisor, just barely blind; the jabs they sent at each other reminded her of the closeness she had shared only months ago. The closeness she had given up. 

For the moment, at least, Lucy could hold the warmth close and pretend it was truly hers.


End file.
